


wish, she might

by zarahjoyce



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, idek, modern!AU, poor Sansa tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:00:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29020863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zarahjoyce/pseuds/zarahjoyce
Summary: The very day she decides to forego showering in lieu of dressing up quickly to get to the office on time wasof coursethe very day she gets to ride the elevator withJon Snow,aka Mr. Quietly Perfect, aka the guy she's been crushing onsince time immemorial.God.--really, she's ready to die now.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 12
Kudos: 87
Collections: Jonsa New Year Drabbles





	wish, she might

**Author's Note:**

> Day 3: _Wishes_

It starts, naturally, with her alarm _not_ going off when it was supposed to.  
  
And then she finds out she had about five missed calls, all from work, and a text message from Brienne asking when _the fuck_ she was coming in, because the meeting with the investors is in _two_ _hours_ and all the preparations and presentations still _have_ to be finalized.  
  
By _her._  
  
And then - and then! - there were no taxis available, no Grab or Uber even when she tried, and she was forced to take the bus which, of course, was _also_ late - imagine that.  
  
So here she was, _finally_ at the office building forty minutes later, waiting for the elevator and hoping that she had at least five seconds to grab a cup of half-decent coffee from the pantry before sprinting to the conference room and living through office hell - like she always does day in, day out, six days a week, twenty-four days a month.  
  
 _Welcome to New York,_ she thinks sardonically, keeping herself from glancing at her watch yet again. _Welcome to the perfect story of my life._  
  
 _God._  
  
For once, even _just_ for today, can't something well and good happen to her? Is that something she really _had_ to wish for?  
  
The elevator opens and she steps in, noting with some relief that it was actually empty. She presses 7 on the panel, waits for the door to close automatically - before stepping back in surprise as a hand gets in between the doors, forcing them to open again.   
  
Sansa grits her teeth, glares at the newcomer - only to realize that it's--  
  
 _Oh.  
  
Oh nooo._  
  
The very day she decides to forego showering in lieu of dressing up quickly to get to the office on time was _of course_ the very day she gets to ride the elevator with _Jon Snow,_ aka Mr. Quietly Perfect, aka the guy she's been crushing on _since time immemorial._  
  
 _God.  
  
_ What if she _smells?_ Did she even brush her teeth? She did... didn't she?  
  
Shit. _Shit!_  
  
"Hi," he greets, giving her that tiny smile that rocks the very foundation of her sad little world.  
  
"Hi," she returns with a wave, except she's lifted the hand that's actually holding her bag, so now it looked like she was showing him her purse instead of answering _like a normal person_ and, well--  
  
\--really, she's ready to die now.  
  
He goes further into the elevator and Sansa sucks in her breath, choosing not to move any more than she has to, thank you. It's a miracle he hasn't heard her heartbeats yet with how loudly they're roaring in her ears. She keeps her eyes on her shoes, hoping that she wouldn't come off as some sort of weirdo by staring or glancing back at him - even if she wanted to. Even if she's been _dying_ to.   
  
The more-or-less seven seconds with her crush inside this cramped elevator will be both a blessing and a curse, she realizes now, and _goddamn_ she isn't ready for this encounter. She isn't even wearing make-up beyond the lipstick she's haphazardly smeared on her mouth, for crying out loud! If only she _knew--_  
  
Something above her positively creaks. Not long after, the elevator halts without warning, throwing her off balance and backwards into--  
  
\--the arms of Jon Snow himself.  
  
"Hey," he says, grasping both her arms to support her. "You all right, Sansa?"  
  
 _\--Oh,_ she thinks, realizing just how strong his grip is, and how warm his hands are against her skin. She blinks up at him, noting that he looks even more handsome up close.  
  
 _Very_ up close. "I--"  
  
 _\--shit!  
  
_ She jerks away immediately. Sansa swallows hard, then looks up and around her and asks timidly - even somewhat unnecessarily - "Are we-- are we stuck?"  
  
He sighs and says, "Looks like."   
  
Oh.  
  
Oh.  
 _  
Oh noooooooooooooo.  
  
  
_  
  
  
She really should have at least showered, god _fucking_ damnit.


End file.
